Lean On Me
by Arrhythmic Song
Summary: [deayza][PG13][slash] It's raining, and Yzak picks up a stranded Dearka. Simple fluff.


Lean On Me

2nd November 2005

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Author's Note: Hey to everyone. Sorry for the lack of updates for On Boyfriends: but you can definitely expect a chapter coming up sometime this month, so never fear, I haven't abandoned it. There was a flamer for that fic (and here I thought I could hit fifty reviews without running into one), but that has nothing to do with my lack of updates. My lack of updates in the near future will pretty much be because of RL problems - including but not restricted to a failure of my Chemistry and Math papers, a furious father and the subsequent banning of my poor self from the computer. So... any updating I do will have to be done in school. Thanks for the forbearance, yeah? 

But as a farewell present, here's a quick motorcycle!Yzak fic. The idea just popped into my head on a very bad day... so yeah. I guess _something _good must have come of it. As usual, consider this disclaimed. Not mine, yadda. Thanks!

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Yzak Jule was having a _bad_ day. 'Bad' is a very mild word. However, sometimes, circumstances are sometimes so dire and so absolutely petrifyingly _bad_ that the only word to use is _bad, _because all the other vulgar expletives just fail in the face of the truth. Yzak Jule was also exhausted. Even on PLANT there was so much post-war bullshit to sort out, being a politician was probably the shittiest job of all. (Except being an _EA _politician. Clearing toilets would be less shitty than being an EA politician). He was going to take Chairman Dullindal's offer to ship out as a battleship _taichou_ the first minute a ship was ready. Anything would be better than being repressed in this office. 

Not that the office was crummy. In fact, the office was lovely, with plush carpeting, a solid wood desk – a luxury in today's world of metal and plastic – and a power chair, nice, warm brown leather that was perfectly comfortable. He would never admit it to anyone, but it gave Yzak one _hell_ of a kick to sit in that chair and bark orders.

No, what he had against the office was the view from the windows. Views from windows were meant for big bosses to survey their empire and feel absolutely satisfied at making other people's lives miserable. But no, Yzak's windows had to overlook one of the lovely recreational gardens of PLANT, and so as he was stuck doing paperwork and ruining his eyesight reading ridiculously thick dossiers, he had to be constantly reminded that there were people out there having _fun_. And yes, there were wonderful sunrises and sunsets, but if it was sunrise, it was too early for any _sane _person to be in an office. And if it was sunset, all it was doing was reminding him that _normal people _were going home to eat dinner while he was still stuck in the office.

And of course, the wonderful lighting did nothing more than illuminate the undone heaps of files that were all begging for attention.

Worse of all, it was pouring rain right now, and the car was sitting safely in the home garage. It was revolting, how it stayed beautifully sunny all day, and then decided to torrent in buckets. Scratch revolting, it was _retarded_. Especially since the whole of the workweek had been disgusting, and the next one was looking to be just as interminable. Monday and Tuesday had been paperwork. Wednesday had been the new secretary, who hit on Dearka – she'd been an absolute slut, he'd been furious, bloody _bitch_– Thursday had been preparing a presentation draft for some shitty politician, and Friday had been the EA politician himself, and Yzak had totally lost his rag.

The staff had been tiptoeing rings around him since then, and it was already Saturday night, and Yzak didn't care that he was being a bitch. _Hell, I've got every right to. How pathetic is it that I'm sitting in an office on a Saturday night? And seriously, _he thought, slamming the last folder shut, _that retard was – no wonder EA's falling apart, if they have people _that _in bloody charge. _

And then his cell phone shrilled. Sighing, Yzak flipped it open and hit 'answer'. 'Yzak Jule speaking. What do you want, you sod?'

Dearka winced, hearing the note of anger in the other man's voice. 'Hey, Yzak. Uh.'

'Spit it out, Elthman,' Yzak snapped. 'I _do_ want to come home sometime tonight.'

'I was coming to get you,' and Dearka's voice was all light and injured emotion, and Yzak didn't soften in the least – 'but the car's broken down. I'm stuck in the rain.'

'Dearka, I happen to be taking the train home. You're in the car, wise guy, how do you propose I come and get you?' Yzak huffed, slamming the office door and locking it behind him.

'I left the bike at ZAFT Headquarters?' Dearka's statement sounded suspiciously like a question.

Yzak stopped dead. 'You want me to take the _bike_.'

'Um. You know, baby, it's okay, really-'

'You totally owe me one, Elthman. Where the hell are you?' Yzak bit out, changing directions abruptly and heading for the basement.

'Intersection of Main and Twenty,' Dearka supplied, breathing a quick sigh of relief. 'I already called a tow for the car.'

Yzak sighed faintly, his footsteps echoing throughout the basement as he searched for the bike. 'I'll be there in a while.'

'Love you, babe.'

'Go and die,' Yzak muttered, though without any real rancor, flipping through the bunch of keys to find his copy of the ignition key, never used until now. It wasn't that Yzak didn't know how to ride the bloody motorcycle – it simply wasn't his preferred form of transport. The black bike had always been entirely looked after by Dearka, who fussed and polished and crooned to it like it was his firstborn or something.

What the hell. Yzak got on it anyway, revved the engine and was off. The rain hit him full on the minute he left the shelter of the basement, and even through the windbreaker and helmet it was bloody _cold_, damnit, and the streets were practically deserted by now, only the sole glow of lamps on the highway – of course, no one else was bloody insane enough to be out in what freaking _felt _like gale force winds and it was _freaking_ cold, and each bloody little raindrop was hitting his bare hands – curled around the handles – with the force of a little _bullet_, damnit, and it hurt, it fucking hurt –

_Dearka _seriously _owes me one. _Yzak thought to himself. It would have been nice in other circumstances – he could see Dearka's obsession with the bike and his love for speeding down open highways, and besides, there'd been times when Dearka'd taken him along, riding behind and screaming for dear life and clinging like a limpetas his crazy boyfriend drove like acrazy maniac, whooping his head off– but in the pouring rain, pelting into him at full speed – damnit, his pants were thoroughly soaked by now, and they'd have to be dry cleaned, and _he_ sure as hell wasn't paying the bill.

_My life is hell, _Yzak thought to himself, speeding up. He was breaking every speed limit that ever bleeding existed on this lovely law-abiding world of PLANT, and there was always the chance that he was going to lose control of the bike and smash his head open on a tree or a rock. But cold, miserable and wet Yzak Jule simply didn't care anymore. He was going to pick up Dearka, and he was going to go home.

In fact, he was so focused on that he missed the white car waiting patiently in the rain, and ended up having to double back after Dearka's yell of 'Bloody hell, Yzak, you blind or what?'

'Shuttup!' he snarled back, finally pulling to a halt beside the car. 'Just shut the fuck up and get on, willya? Before my hands get frozen to the bloody bike.'

'Hey, hey,' Dearka got out of the car but didn't get on the bike, just stood there and looked at him, violet eyes softer with concern. Yzak looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn't need this now, he seriously didn't.

'Don't 'hey' me, Dearka, I'm so not in the mood for it,' Yzak warned, jerking his head in the direction of the spare helmet. 'Just get on. I seriously wanna go home, 'kay?' He was infinitely grateful that his voice didn't catch. It would only have clued Dearka in as to how close Yzak was to breaking down, and Dearka was already plenty good at reading Yzak, too bloody good, damnit, he really didn't need the help.

Thankfully enough, Dearka let it go and just got on, wrapping his arms firmly around Yzak's torso and pressing closer for an instant. Yzak sighed and leaned back for a moment, into the embrace - the reversal of their roles was pretty amusing, really, maybe it was finally his turnto terrify Dearka with insane speeds -ignoring the rain that was still coming down steadily. He was soaking Dearka's shirt, but that was probably okay. It was going to get wet anyway, and besides... Dearka would forgive him.

Feeling rather inexplicably better, Yzak revved the engine and moved off.

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Author's Note: Well well, that's it, folks. I was wondering about a second chapter: when they get home, warm up, fluff, etc, but I thought that this was a good place to end (and besides, the paternal was looking increasingly angry). If you would like a second chapter, you can leave me a review and tell me so, and I'll do my best to come up with something. Thanks again for reading, and don't forget to R&R! 


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